


The Agent, the Quartermaster and Jack [Fic & Podfic]

by FlutterFyre, RsCreighton



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Torchwood
Genre: Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Post-Series 03: Children of Earth (Torchwood), Post-Skyfall, Pre-SPECTRE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlutterFyre/pseuds/FlutterFyre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton
Summary: A chance encounter leads to a close encounter of the third kind and everything changes.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Q, James Bond/Jack Harkness, James Bond/Q, James Bond/Q/Jack Harkness
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37
Collections: Pod_Together 2020





	The Agent, the Quartermaster and Jack [Fic & Podfic]

  


Cover art by [MistbornHero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistbornHero/pseuds/MistbornHero)

Opening Music: [ Stereotypes - Black Violin ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYerKidQGcc)  
Closing Music: [ Who Wants to Live Forever - Queen ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Jtpf8N5IDE)

If your browser doesn't support streaming with the HTML5 audio tag, but you can still [download this podfic (MP3)](https://rscreighton.rosejcreighton.com/2020/09/JamesBond_TheAgent_TheQuartermaster_AndJack.mp3).

“Honestly, 007, I’m actually surprised you hadn’t already visited RJS. They just earned their first Michelin star this year.” Q smirked at James Bond as the elite MI6 agent leveled an unimpressed gaze at the head of Q Branch. They exited the restaurant, turning right towards where their car was parked along The Esplanade in Penarth. The Welsh night was settling around them with the rhythmic sound of waves from the incoming tide floating through the growing dark. Headlights from random passing cars illuminated the few fellow pedestrians.

“Despite the beliefs of half of MI6, I do not dine exclusively at Michelin or Gault Millau-rated establishments, Q,” Bond stiffly replied, adjusting his cuffs and unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“That’s not what your expense reports indicate—” Q stopped, thoughts flying as he realised Bond didn’t ordinarily walk around with his jacket flapping open. _What the?_ The Quartermaster misstepped, failing to avoid a seam in the pavement. He might have taken a tumble if not for the quick reactions of the senior agent who didn’t hesitate, steadying Q even as he was fluidly manoeuvred so that Q’s back was against a commercial wheelie bin. Bond planted himself in front of Q and stared intently into the growing shadows.

Head spinning from the ease with which Bond had manhandled him, Q counted himself lucky he hadn’t ended up dumped into the bin “for his own safety”. He knew what Bond thought of him; the agent had made it clear from the start. Q gave a soft snort. Bond had certainly missed a perfect opportunity.

Peering over Bond’s shoulder, Q was looking for what had triggered Bond’s protective instincts when he heard it — a weird mixture of gurgling and quick metallic clicking. As he stared, a shimmering quasi-bipedal figure separated from the darkness near the river on the other side of the road. _What on earth?_

Easily 2 metres tall, even hunched over, it was topped by a teardrop-shaped head and covered in what looked like softly glowing scales. Incongruously, it loped across the single lane of traffic at the designated crosswalk before turning towards Q and Bond. Even more odd, none of the civilians on the street seemed aware of its presence.

Bond’s hand emerged from his jacket, Walther aimed steadily at the...creature?

“Don’t!” A voice commanded from across the street.

Dismissing the speaker, Bond tracked the whatever-it-was as it ignored them, fleeing past where they stood, to leap over the decorative fencing separating the pavement from the Italian Gardens. It disappeared into the dark vegetation beyond.

As one, Q and Bond both turned back to the man now leaving the crosswalk to jog towards them. The Walther rose again in clear warning. A dark haired, thirty-something man wearing a classic Royal Air Force greatcoat sauntered towards them, a wide smile on his face, pointedly ignoring Bond’s weapon and threatening wordless growl.

“Your bullets would have done nothing but have garnered the lorvaris’ attention, which I can assure you, you don’t want.” The man’s accent was clearly American as his smile widened, his overall expression so boyish and charming it made Bond look like an amateur. "You're welcome, by the way."

“What was that? Who are you?” Bond’s voice was low and laced with suspicion.

The man’s glance moved from Bond to where the... _lorvaris?_...had disappeared, before returning to pointedly look over Bond with appreciation. He sighed with what appeared to be regret before smiling again. “Jack Harkness. You are?"

Stony silence met his affable query. The stranger pursed his lips.

"As much as I’d like to stay and get to know you better, and I would—” He waved an absent hand towards the gardens. “I gotta—” He sighed again without urgency.

“Are you trying to imply you’re cosplaying?” Q voiced his scepticism as he stepped out from behind Bond. He carefully stayed to the side away from Bond’s Walther.

Dark eyes swept over Q and he straightened self-consciously. The smile widened. “Sure. Let’s go with that. As I said, I’d _love_ to stay, but I gotta run.”

With a flirtatious wink that included both men, the charismatic stranger turned and jogged away, greatcoat flapping as he vaulted over the fence to also disappear into the bushes.

Bemused, Q stared after him, trying to determine what had just happened. It couldn’t be. Bond’s irritated growl interrupted his thoughts.

“Q.”

Q gathered his thoughts and realised they were now standing next to the late model Aston Martin recently upgraded by Q Branch. He and Bond had driven the car from London to Cardiff two days earlier. Shaking his head in a pointless effort to clear it, Q knew he needed to be more aware, but he couldn’t get the absurd image of that creature — lorvaris — out of his head. The way it looked was so real and its gait was decidedly not human. Q’s thoughts raced. _What is that?_

“Get in the car, Q,” Bond growled again, and Q felt gooseflesh prickle at the near-feral tone. Walther holstered, the agent was holding the passenger side door open, waiting for Q to tuck himself into his seat. Only when Q was safely ensconced, did Bond circle the car, gaze searching the night for any additional oddities that might appear.

As Bond inserted the key to start the Aston Martin, he paused to glare at Q. “Next time, Quartermaster, stay behind me. I can’t watch out for you if you are determined to do whatever you like.”

Q glared at the agent, observing drily, “I wouldn’t know anything about that, 007.”

He watched a muscle jump in Bond’s cheek as the other man stared through the windscreen, shifted into gear, and pulled onto the roadway. They rode in silence for the fifteen minute drive from Penarth to their hotel on the Cardiff waterfront. For their last night in the Welsh capital, he and Bond had been to dinner to celebrate the successful completion of a day and a half of tedious meetings. Q had found the meetings with the heads of both IT and R&D at MI6’s sister agencies, MI5 and GCHQ, tiring but worthwhile. He had even gained additional insight into the rumours of an upcoming effort to consolidate the specialized intelligence agencies.

Thankfully, Bond hadn’t used the forced interaction with his counterparts from other agencies to sow discord and make mischief — Q swore 007 would have been a troublemaking Marauder in another life. Or a Weasley twin. Hadn’t Boothroyd once referred to Bond as one of the Terrible Twins? _What was that about?_

In any event, one final meeting in the morning and they could head back to London, leaving Cardiff intact.

Maybe then Q could look into these 'lorvaris' or whatever they were.

_Likely nothing more than fictional creatures from some new streaming sci-fi series I have no time to watch._

~*~*~

Jack huffed as he scanned the street for the two gorgeous men who had somehow observed his chase after the lorvaris that had slipped through the remnants of the Rift and expressed interest in establishing a new aquatic colony in Cardiff Bay.

It was too much to hope the two might have lingered, searching for answers. Like many aliens, the electro-magnetic waves the lorvaris emitted prevented audio-visual equipment from capturing its presence while most people fell under the psionic haze lorvaris exuded and never noticed when one was moving among them. Unfortunately, Jack was fairly certain those two had somehow seen the lorvaris pass. The good-looking blond growling questions and waving his service pistol about had made that rather clear.

Speaking of the service pistol, that one was definitely some sort of agent. Hopefully that would make it easier to identify and locate them. Torchwood Three and his team may be gone, but Jack still felt a responsibility to obscure things when the damaged Rift spit out aliens with thoughts of domination. At least, when it was that sort of domination. 

Jack smirked and looked around for someone to share the joke with, only to have his smile fade as he remembered he was alone.

Giving a full body twitch, he shook it off and headed to the Cardiff Torchwood HQ to see what Welsh CCTV could tell him about his latest intrigues.

~*~*~

Sitting back, Jack groaned and rubbed his face with both hands before sliding his fingers into his hair and tugging in frustration. The lorvaris had been sent back through the Rift with a warning that this planet was protected and therefore should be left alone. Somehow that had been easier to accomplish than identifying his handsome mystery men. He had been fortunate to locate and save the local CCTV footage when he had, as even that had disappeared from the source servers so completely Jack was hard pressed to believe the men existed at all.

Using techniques developed by Tosh and perfected over the years, Jack captured the faces of both men, analysed them and ran them repeatedly through multiple facial recognition programs. Nothing. Neither man even had a passport, as far as national identification records went.

Jack huffed and reached for the bottle of Scotch sitting nearby. It was going to be a long night.

~*~*~

It had been three days since they had returned from Cardiff. Immediately upon arrival at Six, Q closed himself in his office and dove into his computer. He had questions and he would find answers. Periodically he would reach for his mug of tea to find it empty and forced himself to take a break to brew more tea and visit the loo.

Upon returning from one such break, he found Bond fidgeting with the remnants of various half-finished projects on Q’s personal workbench.

“None of that, 007,” Q ordered as though addressing a toddler or a cat.

Bond glanced up but did not desist rooting through the scattered R and D detritus. “And a good evening to you, Quartermaster,” Bond responded mildly.

Q was relieved he always secured his projects when he was not actively working on them. “Actually it’s 0100.”

“Good morning then.” Bond gestured with a ballpoint pen at the steaming mug of tea Q cradled in his hands. “English Breakfast?”

“What? No—007, put that pen back! I assure you it won’t explode, but if you persist, I might.” Q crossed over to his standing desk and carefully set down the full mug, assuring himself that access to his laptop remained locked before turning back to Bond. “And it’s Earl Grey.”

Planting his hands on his hips, Q glared at Bond for several seconds. Bond raised an eyebrow, unrepentant. Finally, Q asked, “What do you want, 007? I was not made aware of any missions requiring the specialised skills of a Double O. Or yours either, for that matter.”

Bond’s eyes narrowed and he pocketed the pen with great deliberation. “I’m here to see what you’ve uncovered with regards to our...encounter...in Wales.”

~*~*~

“UNIT?” Bond’s voice was dubious. “Is that real?”

“Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” Q confirmed, nodding.

Bond snorted. “Sounds like something from one of your movies or comic books.”

“My movies or comic books?” Q felt his back stiffen. _Bloody Bond and his bloody arrogance._ “What, exactly, are you implying, 007? I thought we were past the taunts regarding my appearance and age.”

“I was referencing the science fiction memorabilia collection in your flat, which I might add, you haven’t seen for days.”

“How do you know I haven’t been home?” Q started before he registered the larger question. “Wait, what were you doing in my flat?”

“I was looking for you. Did you think Q Branch in the middle of the night was my first stop? Even Tanner goes home sooner or later. It was apparent you hadn’t been home, possibly since Cardiff. I gave up waiting for you to arrive.”

Q wasn't even going to question how Bond got past his security — the man wasn’t a Double O for nothing. “So, given this new information,” Q began.

“How certain are you of your sources?” Bond looked highly sceptical.

“I’d use it to support you in the field. To be fair, most of what I found in UNIT supports data I accessed years ago when I hacked a now-defunct organisation called ‘Torchwood Three’. Also, I may have come across a file M has that substantiates the information regarding UNIT and the Torchwood organisations.”

Bond’s attention whipped from the monitor on the wall to stare at Q, aghast. “Mallory knows?”

With a sympathetic smile, Q nodded in confirmation. “And Tanner. I'm sure M knew, as well,” he added. “I imagine they will be less than pleased to learn we know their dirty little secret.”

“Huh.” Bond turned to fully face Q. “Looks like I need to go back to Cardiff and see what else I can dig up.”

“We, 007. If you think I’m missing out on this, you’re further gone than Psych thinks you are.”

~*~*~

Jack grinned when he finally spotted his human quarry in Cardiff almost a week after losing them. He began to stride towards them when he realised exactly where they were standing. The base of the Water Tower. Halting, Jack raised his face to stare at the wispy clouds in the bright blue afternoon sky. “Fuck.”

They saw something that night. He knew it. They saw something, went digging, and somehow — God knew how — learned about the location of the now-defunct Torchwood Hub under Roald Dahl Plass. At least there was no longer anything for them to access there. _Who were they that they were able to learn about Torchwood?_

Blowing out a breath, Jack nodded to himself. All right. He knew what he needed to do. Smiling and turning on the charm, he continued across the plaza. 

“Well, well, well, here you two gorgeous gentlemen are once more!” Jack greeted the strangers with enthusiasm generally reserved for dear friends and sometime lovers. It was entirely possible one of those labels might yet apply.

As they turned, he saw the blond man’s hand twitch towards what Jack was certain was a shoulder rig concealed underneath a perfectly tailored suit jacket. Paranoid much?

“Don’t you ever say ‘Hello’?” The dark haired man responded, revealing a snarkiness that caused Jack’s smile to widen.

“Um, no. I’ve been informed that is flirting and I wouldn’t want to make either of you lovely gentlemen uncomfortable.” Jack winked conspiratorially as the dark haired one rolled his eyes.

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t be uncomfortable? Excellent!” Jack smiled broadly, pleased with how he had successfully manipulated the conversation. Unobtrusively patting the vial of amnesia-inducing Retcon in his coat pocket, he decided it would be best to get them somewhere private. But which approach to take?

His eyes flickered between the two very different but very delicious men and he hoped they might have time for some fun before he needed to remove himself from their memories. He had already unleashed Tosh’s worm to hunt down any references to the lorvaris’ description on systems connected to the internet. After all, every trace must be eradicated.

In an effort to save everyone’s time, he decided to cut to the chase. “I imagine the two of you have questions.”

“You could say that.” Blondie spoke for the first time. “Bond. James Bond.”

“Captain Jack Harkness, at your service. Is there someplace we could talk privately?”

~*~*~

A low whistle escaped as Jack glanced around the high-end hotel suite overlooking Cardiff Bay. “You certainly spare no expense when traveling,” he observed. Glancing at his guests, he noted a sour expression flitter across the face of the dark haired man.

James smiled and Jack had to admit he was good. The blond exuded charm, but his sky blue eyes were cold, closed off from actual emotion. He was definitely the more dangerous of the two. Of course, that just made him sexier. Add in the perfectly cut Saville Row suit...Jack sighed. _I definitely have a type._

“Mind if we order up some drinks?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Might make what you’re about to hear easier to swallow.

“Let’s just get to the point, shall we?” stated Q, as the dark haired man had identified himself. He lowered himself to perch on a nearby chair. “Spin your story, if you please. The sooner we finish here, the sooner you and Bond can deal with your suffocating UST.”

“Our UST? What about you?” Jack asked.

Q blinked. “What about me?”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me there’s no UST between you two?” Jack waved his hand at the two men.

A flush bloomed across Q’s face as he glared at Jack. Jack smirked and looked to James who was watching the exchange with naked interest.

Jack nodded. “I thought so.”

Q took a deep breath, seeming to count to ten at least before speaking again. “Your story, _Captain_.”

“And then?”

Bond entered the negotiation. “Then we’ll see.”

~*~*~

Q sat back, stunned by all the strange man — Jack, he reminded himself — had revealed. Everything he said was corroborated by the files Q had assembled back at Six. Even so, it was almost impossible to believe. Apparently not only did aliens exist, but time and intergalactic space travel were both possible — just not for humans. It didn’t escape Q’s notice that Jack did not seem to include himself in that designation — _you humans_ had been mentioned more than once.

“I need tea.” He said, standing and crossing to the room phone on the desk. “Anyone else?”

Bond nodded agreement without taking his eyes off their guest.

Meanwhile, Jack relaxed in the armchair, crossing his ankle over his knee as he smiled broadly. “Everything I want is already here.”

Rolling his eyes, Bond asked. “Are you always this bold?”

“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to go after what you want.” The smile morphed into a smirk.

“Oh?” Bond raised a sceptical eyebrow, face otherwise impassive. Q could tell he was not impressed by the age comment. Then again, Q hadn’t been when Bond had made them.

“Well, yeah.”

“And with all this space and time travel,” Bond waved his hand dismissively.”How long have you lived?”

Jack shrugged. “Not sure. Well over a millennium, granted most of that was buried alive.”

Reflexively, Q flinched. Surely he was exaggerating. “Really?” Q didn’t bother to hide his disbelief.

“I can’t die,” Jack stated baldly, shifting to lean forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands folded.

“You sure about that?” Bond asked, Walther in hand and aimed as he stood and moved between Jack and Q.

“Look.“ Jack stood up and shed his greatcoat. “If it will make you feel better,” he paused, untucking and unbuttoning his black shirt, revealing smooth, firm pectorals.

Q’s breath caught. He really wanted to run his hands over that chest, explore those muscles. Taste that skin. As that thought registered, he paused. What was Jack doing to his self control?

Jack stepped towards them, arms spread wide. “Shoot me.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when the report of the Walther echoed through the room.

~*~*~

Jack groaned and opened his eyes. He was lying on the hotel carpet, staring up at the two men he was attempting to seduce. It shouldn’t be this difficult. He used to be better at this.

“Ow,” he grumbled, sitting up. He may not die, but that didn’t mean pain wasn’t a thing. “Getting shot sucks. I can’t believe you did that.”

Q grinned with wry humour. “You did tell him to shoot you. I’m not sure what you expected.”

“Somehow I didn’t think he actually would.” He huffed in amusement. He should have known better — everything pointed to James being one of the most ruthless agents in Britain.

“Now you know better.” Smirking, Bond reached down and offered Jack a hand up.

“You two have some of the strangest foreplay I’ve ever seen and that’s saying something.” Jack shook his head in amused disbelief.

Looking between the two men, Jack saw Q looking at James with a mixture of amusement and exasperation tinged with heat. There was definite interest there. Inspired, he took James’ offered assist, standing gracefully before letting momentum carry him so that he was pressed thighs-to-chest against James.

Releasing James’ hand, he grabbed the back of the agent’s head and crashed their mouths together. He felt James tense for a moment before hands cradled his head and the kiss intensified. Sharp teeth nibbled his lips before James’ tongue swept over them, demanding entrance.

Now this was more like it.

Jack’s hands moved to tug at James’s jacket. Mouths not parting, he urged James out of the perfectly tailored suit jacket, only to encounter a shoulder rig. He scrabbled ineffectually at the fitted leather.

Meanwhile, James’ hands moved to his shoulders, sliding Jack’s braces off. Then James pushed the fabric of Jack’s shirt open and off his shoulders, until the tension pulled Jack’s arms down and back, trapping them behind him. Jack growled wordlessly in frustration.

They snogged until lack of oxygen forced them to part, Jack pulled back and looked over James’ shoulder at Q, who was leaning against the desk, observing. The expression on Q’s face showed unadulterated want.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Jack asked.

A flush spread over Q’s face at being caught out watching. He cleared his throat. “Bond seems to have you well in hand.”

As if to prove Q’s point, James’ hand traced bare skin along the waist of Jack’s trousers from back to front, stopping to toy with the fastenings. Knowing fingers danced across the fabric, moving lower to cup Jack’s balls.

Jack widened his stance and tilted his hips into the light pressure in invitation. “Just because he doesn’t need help, doesn’t mean we wouldn’t enjoy it.”

He winked and saw Q’s spine stiffen with determination. Taking a deep breath, Q stalked over and grabbed Jack’s jaw. Jack did not resist as Q forced his head to turn to the side so Q could plant a kiss on his mouth that was every bit as possessive as the one Jack had landed on James minutes before.

Moaning, Jack closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. Now that any apparent inhibitions were gone, Jack realised, snark aside, Q knew how to use his mouth. Eager, Jack met Q’s challenge, tongues tangling and teeth nipping. Distantly Jack was aware of his flies opening. The breeze as his trousers and pants dropped to the floor energizing him.

Off-balance and all-in, Jack struggled to toe-off his shoes before remembering he was wearing work boots which were not going anywhere without help. Noticing his quandary, Q broke the kiss and glanced down before casually ordering, “007, shoes.”

The cool commanding tone instantly hardened Jack’s cock. He hadn’t thought Q had it in him. Judging from the slight widening of James’ eyes, neither had he. James immediately dropped to his knees and fumbled with bunched up material and laces until he was able to free Jack’s feet. With James’ steadying hands and the distraction of Q’s teeth nibbling across his jaw and down his neck, Jack somehow managed to step free of his shoes and trousers.

Jack’s dick bobbed in the air like a Maestro’s wand in front of James, who sat back on his heels, smirking.

Q stepped behind Jack and tugged his shirt the rest of the way off. “That’s better.”

Arms now free, Jack proudly propped his fists on his hips and looked from James to Q. “Either I’m under-dressed or the two of you are wearing entirely too many clothes.” 

“He has a point, Bond. I can’t recall the last time you were entirely clothed while your partner was nude,” Q challenged.

Jack watched appreciatively as James rose smoothly, loosening his tie and shrugging out of the shoulder rig before unfastening his cuffs. “Et tu, Q?” the agent asked.

Leaving James to undress, Jack turned his attention to the still fully dressed man behind him. “Q,” he purred. “So full of _delightful_ surprises. How long have you been waiting to order James around the bedroom?” Jack smiled and raised his eyebrows.

“This is hardly the bedroom—” Q started, flush rising once more.

“The hotel room, then,” Jack amended cheerfully.

“Erm.” Q was looking past Jack with a strangled expression. Between that and the rustle of fabric behind him, Jack knew he was no longer the only naked man in the room. 

One to go.

Footfalls softly sounded as James crossed the carpet to stand beside Jack. “Q?” the blond questioned in a low voice.

“James,” Q breathed.

Because he was looking for it, Jack saw the slight hitch in James’ breath when Q said his name, not his last name or his designation. Jack huffed. These two were so gone on one another, he couldn’t decide if he should laugh or knock their heads together. It wasn’t his business, but Jack couldn’t help but remember Ianto and all the lost opportunities. He didn’t want that for them.

Moving to stand directly behind Q, Jack lightly rested his hands on Q’s shoulders and breathed into Q’s ear. “If you could tell James to do anything right now, what would you say?”

Q tilted his head slightly back and closed his eyes briefly before opening them to stare directly at James. “Kneel.”

With no hesitation, James was on his knees, looking up at Q with sharp interest.

“Tell him what you want, Q,” Jack urged, slowly pulling Q’s cardigan from his shoulders.

“Take me out and suck me,” Q rasped.

Satisfaction flashed in blue eyes as James reached to release Q’s flies, parting the fabric and pressing his face against Q’s groin.

Q’s head fell back against Jack’s shoulder with an inarticulate moan.

Tossing the cardigan to the side, Jack reached around Q and loosened his tie before nimbly unbuttoning his shirt.

James glanced up with heated eyes. Jack winked at him and proceeded to mouth his way down Q’s neck.

“Why don’t we move this to the bedroom…”

~*~*~

Jack looked at the two men still asleep in bed. James lay on his back, one arm at his side, the other wrapped around Q, who was curled on his side with his face pillowed on James’ chest.

They fit well together. He hoped they could get their shit — or shite, as the Brits say — together and stop wasting time. Even he couldn’t afford to waste time when he found someone he cared about. And he definitely had more time than most.

He smiled ruefully and exited to the sitting area.

Getting dressed, he found the vial of Retcon and grimaced. While he would have liked for them to remember him, some things weren’t meant to be. He crossed to the minibar and pulled out 3 bottles of water. He cracked two open, adding the amnesia-inducing drug to each before capping them again. Sliding the vial back into his pocket, Jack juggled the bottles as he returned to the bedroom.

James was awake, sitting propped against the headboard, while Q now sprawled on the other half of the bed. Blue eyes tracked Jack as he circled to the bedside table near Q and set down one bottle. Raising a second bottle towards James, he quirked an eyebrow in question.

When James smiled and nodded once, Jack circled back around and leaned over to indulge in one last snog before he left. Depositing the second tainted bottle of water on the bedside table, Jack stood and smiled at James. “It has definitely been fun. Take care of each other.”

With a last wink, Jack left the suite, a bounce in his step and a sober expression on his face. He was not going to regret wiping their memories. He wasn’t. It had to be done. It was too dangerous to let humans know what was out there. And letting them remember he couldn’t die was just asking to be locked away in a lab somewhere, tortured in the name of Science.

Not happening.

The Retcon would make sure of that.

~*~*~

Q woke from the most amazing dream. Bond had been in it, as well as that odd but lovely and charming bloke named Jack. Stretching, Q realised he was not wearing his sleep pants, or any pants at all for that matter. What the?

His eyes flew open and he saw empty condom wrappers on the bedside table next to a condensation-covered bottle of water. _Maybe not entirely a dream._

A glance at the other side of the bed showed he was alone. The ensuite shower started. Q stood, grabbing his sleep pants and pulling them on before continuing out to the sitting area. No Jack. Shame. Q had a few outstanding questions regarding time travel and aliens. After last night’s revelations, he now knew his hacked bounty was incomplete.

Frowning, Q returned to grab the bottle of water. He was parched; hydration was necessary.

The shower cut off. Good, he could grab one and then he and Bond could get on the road back to London.

Q gulped the cool liquid, finishing the bottle in a series of quick swallows.

Bond emerged from the ensuite, a towel wrapped around his waist, errant drops of water trickling down his chest. Q nearly choked as memories from the night before returned in a rush. Damn, but that had been hot.

Feeling his face heat, Q crushed the now empty water bottle and forced a cool tone as he greeted the agent. “Good morning, Bond. Just let me shower and we can head out. I can hardly wait to compare what we learned last night with the files I have back at Six. Ta for the water.”

With a single nod, Bond crossed to the dresser. Ice blue eyes flicked between the crushed water bottle in Q’s hand and the bedside table before Bond’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Q binned the bottle on his way to the ensuite.

~*~*~

Thirty minutes later, they were in the Aston Martin, crossing the Prince of Wales Bridge, heading back to London. For some reason, Bond was in a rush to return to London and had both their luggage packed when Q emerged from the ensuite. When Q had objected, citing a need for tea, Bond had shoved a travel cup into his hand and hustled them out the door.

Once again, Bond was driving. One of these days Q was going to test drive his baby, but that may have to wait for Bond to be away on a mission. Q yawned, liquid caffeine ineffective as the combination of the warmth of the sun through the windscreen and the rumble of tyres on the pavement lulled him to sleep.

~*~*~

Groggy, Q shoved his glasses up his nose and peered around, recognizing streets near Six headquarters. Pain centered behind his eyes and his mouth felt covered in cotton wool. Bond was driving, but Q didn’t remember getting in the car.

“How bloody much did I drink?” Q asked muzzily.

Bond tapped the brakes as he turned to look at Q. “Nothing. What are you talking about, Q?”

“Are you sure? I feel decidedly hungover.”

Shifting gears, Bond accelerated, weaving through the last few blocks of traffic until he turned into the Six carpark and had to stop for their IDs to be verified. No sooner had he pulled into a parking space, then he was out of the car and opening Q’s door.

“Oi!” Q protested as Bond grabbed his arm, hauling him out of the car and hustling him into Six. Between confusion and the hangover, Q could hardly form, much less voice a coherent objection. Surprisingly, Bond dragged him through the hallways to Medical and thrust him at a male nurse upon arrival.

“Test his blood. I think he’s been drugged.”

The nurse hit a button and a swarm of Medical personnel appeared, buzzing around Q like bees around a honeypot.

“What? No! Bond, what are you talking about?” Alarmed, Q swatted his hands impotently as he was herded into an examining room.

Efficiently, his shirt was unbuttoned and removed. Q closed his eyes against the vague memory of a cheeky grin. A strip of rubber was tied around his upper arm, followed by the cold swipe of alcohol and the jab of a needle.

Shaking his head did nothing to clear it and only left it pounding like elephants were stampeding to escape. Maybe Bond was onto something. This didn’t feel like a usual hangover. Bond’s words echoed in his mind. _I think he’s been drugged._

Panic rose and Q felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. The sense of not being in control increased and with it his anxiety. Q was accustomed to being in control but this felt anything but. What happened and why couldn’t he remember?

“Sir! Sir! You can’t come in here—”

Bond’s face loomed over Q. Why was he lying down? “Q,” Bond demanded. “Listen to me. Take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Like this.”

Taking Q’s hand, Bond pressed it against his own chest and drew a deep breath and released it. He repeated the action and Q found himself following Bond’s lead. The darkness that had been hovering on the edge of Q’s awareness receded.

Staring into Q’s eyes, Bond must have found what he was looking for as he nodded. Q continued the measured breaths and realised the doctors had continued their efforts to evaluate his vitals. Recognising he would not be returning to Q Branch as quickly as he might wish, Q sighed.

“Can someone please let R know I’m down here?”

~*~*~

“Feeling better?”

Q looked up from the code he was debugging as Bond wandered into his office.

“I am. S&T are busy trying to identify and recreate the compound. Tell me, Bond, how did you know I had been drugged?”

“Trust me, Q, that night was quite unforgettable, and I don’t just mean the sex.” A small smile curved Bond’s lips. “Has reviewing your files helped to fill in any blanks?”

Narrowing his eyes, Q decided to ignore his apparent indiscretion with the agent. Bond was notorious after all, so it wasn’t as though he was the only conquest at Six. Probably not even the only one in Q Branch. “What files?”

“The files about Torchwood, the Doctor, UNIT, aliens and Jack.”

After several seconds of staring at Bond as though he had lost his mind, Q decided he had no time for the agent’s foolishness. He shook his head and turned back to the oversized monitor. Q was massively behind schedule and that didn’t even take into account all the paperwork he had apparently been ignoring prior to being trapped in Medical for two days while the doctors studied him, trying to determine if the unknown compound in his blood was going to have any untoward effects.

“Q?” Unexpected concern laced Bond’s query. “Have you not gone through your files to compare them to what Jack told us?”

Saving and closing the file he was working on, Q turned back to Bond, his frustration clear. “What files Bond? Who’s Jack? I have no idea what you are referring to.”

Bond’s eyes narrowed. “You did some research after our trip to Cardiff last week. What you discovered seemed unreal, so we went back to see what we could dig up. We met someone who claimed that not only were aliens and space and time travel a thing but that he had lived for over a millennium. He then proceeded to seduce both of us before apparently drugging you and leaving.”

Q raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. And where did I save these files?”

Bond shrugged. “Where do you normally keep files for safekeeping?”

After staring for several seconds, Q decided Bond was serious and maybe there were indeed some files that would support the nonsense he was spouting. Fingers flying across the keyboard, Q searched through a variety of storage drives only to find...nothing. Adjusting his search criteria, Q tried again.

“There’s nothing here.” He looked at Bond. “There’s a period of approximately 21 hours with absolutely no saved files which is quite inexplicable.”

Anger flashed across Bond’s features and he slammed a fist down on the desktop.

“Hold on,” Q said. Muttering under his breath, Q unlocked his file cabinet and withdrew a laptop from the bottom drawer.

Flipping the screen open, Q booted it up and entered 2 passcodes, swiped his thumb, index and ring fingers, and inserted his ID card into the chip reader. Identity confirmed, Q began the same queries as before, only this time gigabytes of files were returned. He huffed and turned to Bond.

“Well, Bond, it looks like I need you to refresh my memory regarding our trips to Cardiff. What are you doing tonight?”

Bond smiled.

~*~*~

Epilogue

Jack stood on Cardiff Bay Trail, hands shoved into his pockets, staring at the Mermaid Quay memorial to dear Ianto. Passing tourists parted to flow around him like a river. Lost in his memories, he paid them no mind. _Ianto, Ianto, Ianto, my brave and gorgeous man. I thought we’d have more time. If only..._

Shaking his head, Jack returned to the present. He hoped James and Q got their collective shit together and stopped pretending there was nothing between them. That only led to regrets. He should know.

He smiled sadly. Jack had promised himself he wouldn’t come back here, the hurt was too painful, the loss too profound. Then again, never was a hard promise to keep when you couldn't die. Unlike others.

Taking a deep breath, his gaze slid one last time over the makeshift shrine. He was both surprised and impressed it was still here. Then again, he supposed some events just would not be forgotten. And some people should not be.

He snapped a salute and turned to leave. He had a feeling he’d be back.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> According to Google Maps, there actually is a fan-established memorial to Ianto Jones ("Ianto's Shrine") near Mermaid Quay in Cardiff. 
> 
> FlutterFyre wishes to thank Rose for a fabulous PodTogether experience!
> 
> Rose wants to drop a note here and thank Flutterfyre for being awesome, and writing such a fun fic to record! <3


End file.
